


Dead

by Inappropriate_Possibility



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Meihem - Freeform, Mention of Drugs and Drug Use, Public Masturbation, So much swearing bc fuck it ya know, junkrat is fucking trash, lots if Junkrat cumming in his pants, yo I don’t have a dick and have never cum in my pants But I’m writing it anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 16:05:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inappropriate_Possibility/pseuds/Inappropriate_Possibility
Summary: This was inspired by various Mother Mother tracks, including Cesspool of Love and Problems and The Drugs. Junkrat sees Mei at some rave in a barn in the woods, thinks she’s product of his high, gets shook, and then he fucks up like always. Maybe this will go somewhere?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this fucking dumb thing, please like and leave a comment!

The first time he’d laid eyes on her, he promptly pulled his dick out and started to jerk off, face remaining casual and glazed from all the liquor and drugs and his hands working furiously. The crowded barn in the woods so full of people who were in turn so full of drugs or love for the music or both, that no one really bat an eye. The space was dark and loud enough to get away with it, not that Junkrat was fit enough to think of such things. It wasn’t entirely Junkrat’s fault here, girls like her never showed up to things like this, and she looked so much like the girls in the wet dreams he genuinely thought he was just spacing out cuz of the drugs. This girl had absolutely everything anyone could want. Soft looking brown pulled back in perfect sort of messy bun, with thick fluffy bangs framing her beautiful face. Big dark eyes on flawless dewy skin with some pink in her cheeks and a few beauty marks here and there just to emphasize her perfect. Her lips were pink and pouty and small, they looked like they tasted like marshmellows. A body with all the right curves and rolls, all soft with the big tits and the plush rear and smaller waist. She had on a long baby blue coat with a white dress underneath that was really blurring the line between sexy and cute in way Junkrat had never seen. She looked like an angel.

And then the paranoia set in. An angel, so he must be dead. Who would’ve thought Jamison Fawkes would make heaven? Fucken wild. Junkrat’s boner was still going at full force, but the revelation that he was dead told him to stuff it back in his pants. He wiped his hands on his dingy jeans. He had to find his best pal, Roadhog, he’d know what to do. Probably been dead before, probably knew how to stop it or whatever. Swearing, Junkrat got his body to lurch up and off the mound of burlap sacks he had been sitting on. Stumbling forwards, maybe stepping on some feet. The barn was a mess of sounds and random light sources. Shit, Lucio’s really goin’ all out tonight with the rock n roll shit he’s working on, a fucked up Jamison might’ve thought if he could for a coherent thought. A thought besides the cute girl he’d wanted to fuck earlier. Shit, was that her?

Sure enough, the cute girl was standing in a small groups with best friend Mako Rutledge a couple other familiar faces. He could hear her speak to a very drunk Hana who was being propped safely by a far more collected Brigitte. Even her voice was cute. So he began to move, somehow, forcing his body over there, trying to ignore he screaming in his lungs as he held his breath hoping to avoid catching her eye. This was very uncharacteristic of the young man, he’d always done very well with attention, and often enjoyed showing off, making sure someone had him in their heads. But something about her made him nervous. Like he wasn’t worthy of her attention, almost. He shook it off and kept moving.

Oh his stupid brain wouldn’t  _ fuck off.  _ Everytime he landed a step, something in his mind would make up a noise and make him think he’d stepped on something. As he moved he felt a little sicker, and whenever he couldn’t stop himself from looking at the cute girl, fear filled his blood all over again. Eventually he’d stumbled over, avoiding the girls and letting himself fall slack against Roadhogs tattooed tummy. Ah, soft, let me rest, something behind his eyes roared. A big rough hand swatted at him, a low “get off rat” was grumbled. “Nah, fuck, fuuuuck, roadie Im fucking dead I fucken died! I’m dead and I know coz I saw this angel and I yanked my wiener out but then I got real scared cuz I’m dead! Help me ol buddy, ol pal the fuck do I do now!!” It all came out of him at once, Junkrat blubbering and begging in an incredibly undignified manner. He was real fucked up over this.

“Hey, Junky, did meet my old friend Mei?! She’s in town staying with her uncle or whatever Winston is to her, and she’s just your type!!” A drunk Hana exclaimed, her little gremlin voice making Junkrat wish he’d lost both ears instead of a couple of limbs. “What the  _ fuck  _ bun, I’m fucken dead and ya won’t even fuck off then about girls? I tolja ‘lready m’not fucken gay I just dunno bout broads, alroight,” groaned a troubled Junkrat. “Whateverrr, you’re fucking loser anyway, dead  _ my ass _ , just say hi,” Hana whined back.

Junkrat, who had been nearly all curled up on a sitting Roadhog’s stomach/lap, cradling his fucked up noggin, groaned aloud and let his head fall back. Opening his eyes was a red faced little Korean girl with a smirk of superiority upon her face, which after a while of being her friend he’d learned was her resting face, a familiar tall brunette with a warm smile who radiated strength, and his dream girl. Junkrat shot up, body working by itself, moving much liked a startled cat, jumpy and unhinged, headed straight towards his biggest fears. He was standing in front of them, more or less, his body technically standing but he was nowhere near upright. Hands on his knees, trying to get a grip on himself, and while swallowing a huge lump in his throat he found he was right in front of  _ her _ . Big browns full of confusion, and fuck if she didn’t look even more mind blowingly beautiful up close. He found himself staring at her like he would the sun. Junkrat had always had a nasty habit of staring right up at the big hot itself, it was just so fucken crazy and big and explosions were so cool. And now he felt silly for what he used think made sense, staring at the sun, cause fuck the sun if she exists, looken like that. He liked the way she had her face shaped, with the monolids and the sweet delicate little nose and cheeks al soft but with the nice bone structure.

“Awe fuck, I’m real fucken dead n heaven n shit fuck, a fucken angel. Nice, nice fucken, f-face. Tits.” And then he puked. Luckily (?), the only thing in his stomach was liquor and maybe some french fries. There was a lot of girly shrieking filling his ears, some from Hana, some the pretty girl. The last thing Junkrat was before he black out was a pair of really cute little boots with the end covered in his puke.


	2. Naked

The next time he saw her, she was naked in his classroom. Well, naked, under a little robe. And not like  _ naked,  _ but like with some simple little periwinkle panties and a matching bra that made her tits look insanely nice. 

Junkrat was still making his way through his second year of college undecided. The fact that he was in college still hadn’t fully registered with him, and he was just so into  two things that went together in some ways, but he couldn’t decide which to major in. Chemistry, the explode-y kind, and Art, the messy kind. He showed great promise in both, his teachers tolerating his attitude in both art and science classes. Even the authorities not didn’t seek to find or punish him for some of his “public displays” on structures that he definitely did not own.

Nude figure drawing was one of those classes Junkrat enjoyed as a little challenge to himself. The short time periods for each pose coupled with his struggle at creating human bodies, really got his blood pumping. Naked people didn’t really bother him, and even with most chicks he didn’t even crack a fat anymore. He actually prefered the nudity, that way people were separated by themselves as people, and not my any defining choices in clothing and the like. There were some models that were a real pain, not because they weren’t beautiful, but because they were too beautiful to really enjoy sketching out. It was the unconventional, and even the ugly he liked to make.

There were a few of models that stopped in to be naked for a while pretty consistently. There was Genji, a friend of a his pal Lucio, and Junkrat’s personal favorite. He was definitely conventionally attractive, but he was missing a few parts. And now those parts were state of the art metal prosthetics, far more advanced than Junkrat’s own scrap-derived arm and leg. Genji was a delight to draw, and often offered to hold even the most creative poses for longer than the usual time because his body, both real and synthetic were able to hold it. And then there was Zaryanova, or Zarya with his friends like Hana and Brigitte. She was kind of a bitch, to him anyway, but she was also the impressive looking person he’d ever seen. She was massive, second only to his behemoth best friend who was at least 7 foot. Zaryanova was built like a Amazonian, all lean muscle, but still held very feminine figure. Junkrat found himself jealous of how hot she was, and how much women liked her and her muscles and pretty hair.

 _They_ had brought her in that day. He hadn’t expected to see her ever again. Hana had bought flowers and some girly gift basket and made his rewrite a “heartfelt“ note she had pre-written as an apology. Apparently Mei had already been nervous to show up to the barn show, but after the vomit Mei had sworn off all parties with Hana. Hana was livid. But there she was now, looking like a dream.

“Everyone, listen,” Zarya had ordered, even though she didn’t have to when most people hung on her every word. “A dear comrade of mine will be modeling next. She is the most brave, facing her insecurities head on. You all, of course, will love her. But I  _ promise,  _ if any of you make her feel uncomfortable in any way, I will turn your body inside out. Is that understood?” Junkrat could feel the fear and slight arousal fill up the room. Affirmatives were mumbled out from the class, including the professor. “If I cannot hear you, how will I know my message was received?” Zarya was not really asking. Even Junkrat found himself agreeing out loud. It kind of pissed him off that she was getting him to sing like that, but fear overrode any bitterness. He was already a neurotic wreck most of the time, and already missing two limbs. Couldn’t go picking fights with someone like Zaryanova.

The door opened, and there she was. She walked in, soft taps of her flat shoes barely audible over the classroom sounds to moving paper and and clicks of writing utensils. As Junkrat watched, he was rendered motionless yet he almost vibrated. He shook, and he could feel his face and ears almost glow while his dick reminded him this was nude drawing class. Junkrat couldn’t help as a stupid guilty grin split on his face. He was sure being this excited was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself. Shaking hands turned to a new page and suddenly he was overcome with a deep dread. He already didn’t like the way he drew people and bodies, how wrong and ugly they always managed to look. How dare he even try to recreate some one like her.

“Miss Mei, I am going to set a timer for 3 minutes and for those 3 minutes you should remain perfectly still in a pose of your choice, is that alright?” Inquired the professor, the stop watching his hand an indicator that it was too late for her to back out. Junkrat’s prosthetic hand gripped harshly on his own hair, threatening to rip more out as he watched the girl nod curtly and begin to undo her small white robe. He stared while she looked for reassurance in her beefcake model friends, who sent encouragements her way with every step she took the center of the room. In the center of the room is where the models would pose, with or without the use a large wooden block that was meant as a chair or prop given the model’s pose. Junkrat felt some pain as bits of hair gave way to his grip but nothing was going to take his eyes away from her.

She walked right by him, and once in the center, her back was directly facing him. More hair ripped away fro his scalp when she took of the robe, folded it and deposited it on the ground beside her. All creamy skin, dreamy blue undies with stretch marks lacing her shoulders and ass. She was given the okay to pose, and Junkrat came in his pants. She had to turn to face almost directly towards him, sitting down with her legs crossed, back arched with her arms around her head. Cute little face defiant, but a distinct flush showing up on her cheeks. His attention then faltered, eyes moving to his lap, swearing to himself. What the fuck was he supposed to do then? So he began to draw, furious not only at himself, but at the whole universe for putting himself in this situation.

Junkrat loved drawing people. He honestly did. Junkrat was a true lover chaos and nothing embodies chaos to him like a human being. Human beings suck. They do dumb shit but they have the capacity to be so _grest_. They are lucky enough to have bodies that out of sheer luck function and make them self aware but also might fail at any second. The spontaneity that was human life was fucking wild, and human bodies just as if were gross and so hard to capture. Junkrat’s style varied wildly, which drove him insane. All these factors caused him to value the ugly, because ugly was something familiar and real to him. Something he had far less trouble capturing.

But seeing her, seeing Mei like that, really made him appreciate and yearn for the ability to make something that might even slightly reflect how beautiful she was.

Working furiously, he was torn between drawing and staring. After all it wasn’t every day he’d get to see someone her like that. Junkrat scratched away at the pad while only vaguely aware of the whatever tips or ideas the professor was lecturing about. In a second between drawing and glancing up, their eyes met. Junkrats heart was definitely not beating anymore. It took her a short second to recognize him, now that he wasn’t as much of a mess as he’d been at the rave. Her big eyes got even bigger, and her little nose wrinkled. Scared and more than a little embarrassed, he offered an apologetic smile. It looked more like a leer, and Mei scoffed and sharply averted her eyes.

Times up. Mei began to change her pose and Junkrat watched as she blew his mind again. Mei turned to the side and away from him. She then pulled her leg up to her ear. One hand lightly wrapped around her leg like it was nothing while the other sat supporting her on the blocks. Little oos and abs came from various students and Junkrat felt something angry try to climb up his throat to scream at them to stop. Fucken creeps.

This shit was getting to be too much. She was too cute, too hot, too sweet. The stuff in his pants was the peak of discomfort. He couldn’t focus on either looking at her or drawing and it was pressing on all the wrong nerves in his head. He felt uncomfortably warm, even though he usually prefered the warmth. 

In a flurry of limbs, he began packing up his shit. He was being noisy, and very  _ very _ rude, but it really felt like he didn’t have a choice. She was too fucking cute and this class was being fucking dumb and making him feel bad, so like just  _ fuck it.  _ Violently swinging his backpack over his shoulder, definitely knocking into someone else’s shit, he rose and started making his way to the door.

“Mr. Fawkes, where do you think you’re going?” Demanded the teacher. Junkrat liked his professor, honest, but he wasn’t in the mood. The guy was an artist, the starving kind and he definitely didn’t look like he was much for enforcing any kind of order. Junkrat stopped and looked over at him, bared his teeth and made a gross kind of hissing growl. The professor blinked back dazedly, mouth ajar and pulled in minor disgust. Junkrat kept moving.

“Junk boy! What has gotten into you!” Junkrat heard Genji follow him out of the class. Tossing a fuck you over his shoulder, he bolted. Jamison could hear Genji laugh behind him, they both knew it was stupid to think that he could outrun a young god like Genji.

While Junkrat had Genji beat as far as height, being 6’ 7” on a good day, Genji won in his about everything else. It was no problem for Genji catch up with the wiry youth, and with all the confidence and what seemed like all the strength in the world, he grabbed right onto Junkrat’s studded collar. A gag and some spit flew, and Genji had yanked him back to face him. Genji might have only been 5’ 7” but junk had never felt smaller. Now limp, he was being held up almost solely by Genji, and goddamn did he look pathetic.

“Stand up, yes? C’mon, I just want to talk,” coaxed Genji with all the care one would use when speaking to a frightened animal. Sweet green eyes and flighty amber eyes met, and the scared creature within Jamison began to still. Junkrat would’ve felt even guiltier had he not listened to the young man. He also would probably get his ass kicked if he’d tried to fight Genji off. He stood in his own, feeling weak and embarrassed. Jamison took his bag and held it to cover his crotch in a way he’d thought was discrete. Judging by the amused look in Genji’s face, it had not been as discrete as he’d hoped and could feel his whole body burn.

“Hey, so what was that all about? Are you feeling ill?” Genji obviously had all the best intentions in the world, but Junkrat was fucking dumb.

“Oh, jus go ‘head n lock me up! Fucken ruined her debut, fucken ruined everythen’! Kill me, greens! I can’t go on! Too much trouble oi am! Oh fuck me, fuck me!” He wailed, book bag dropped and forgotten, hands pawing at his own face. He was definitely leaking a few tears, and his pants were beyond uncomfortable. The underdressed youth stood in front of him with only simple robe and pained expression. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Junkrat? Is that what you go by?” Lip quivering and chin dimpled, he nodded. “Okay then, why don’t we go back- you don’t have to go in with me! I’ll go and get my clothes, you can wait outside. I’ll talk with Professor Price that you felt sick and we can go get you into something more comfortable,” Genji said knowingly. Another nod from rat boy.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all this is shit, but if ya wouldn’t mind??? Validate me


End file.
